Twenty-Five Lives
by chaosu
Summary: Random drabbles for ShuuSung. Inspiration 25 lives by tongari.
1. Chapter 1

1.) Boy and Girl

The boy smiled offering his rough hand. Mother had told him to do this when he is in front of a stranger about his age. It was called, 'Be polite.' "I'm Shuuhei." He could see her doubting his action.

The girl looked at him, lavender eyes suspicious and untrusting, but she had seen this gesture before, from men much, much older than he, eyes much much colder than his. But he would be unlike them, wouldn't he? He wouldn't be a bore that talked nothing but himself, would he? Perhaps he'd be different. "Sun-sun," she spoke holding his hand, curt and cold.

He grinned that smile, that roguish smile, "Let me show you something." And with that he whisked her far and away, to a land that only they knew.


	2. Chapter 2

2.) Mortal and Goddess:

And he sings her praise, as much as she watches him sleep. The darker nights didn't seem as much lonely as they were. His voice would echo far and wide. And the forest too begins to sing. His eyes watch the heaven hoping for a sign that he has pleased his goddess. Lofty with wings brought by the night, wafting up as though smoke from incense burning in her altar, his voice reaches up as it does dig deep.

And she, she would listen to his voice, his song of praises, words that would warm an eternal's heart. Alone perched in her heavenly throne, she watches. There he sits playing his pipes, his words, winged messengers, soothing the weariness of immortality, and the sorrows of eternity. She watches, and watches, for she knew he was just an instant in her eternal existence, and he, he was a moment she wanted to eternalize.


	3. Chapter 3

3.) priest and demon:

Sung-sun, the temptress, watched the young man on his knees, praying fervently to a god that didn't seem to care about his puny existence. She just cannot fathom his devotion to a being that could care less to the hundreds and thousands murdered everyday. And yet she watches him pray.

The man kept his head low, murmuring the silent words that might save his soul, oblivious, for now, of the she-devil that had her eyes on his poor soul, a soul that had valiantly resisted her. The corrupting woman narrowed her eyes, impressed by the sheer will and perseverance of the child. And yet she has to cheer him on, for though she tempts him with her wiles, she secretly hopes that he will not fall. For why else would she be more amused if he would break all too easily? Or was it the perversion in her, to test him to his limits, and yet, hope for him for her salvation?


	4. Chapter 4

Hisagi watched the woman in front of him, his eyes languidly moving, as he fingered the hilt of his sword. 'You are so beautiful and I, I am afraid to touch you, lest you break,' spoke his mind, 'You are but an illusion I am to see but never partake.' Her perfect lavender eyes, sharp and yet playful at the same time, peered at him from beyond the fan that hid the rest of her face. Her body was posed perfectly, control rippling though the taut muscles that lay beneath the fabric of her kimono. 'Ah but, she leaves just too much to the imagination.'

Sake in hand, he sits there watching her as she performs yet another art. His eyes roved her, taking in ever crease, ever nook and cranny of her form, his eyes filling in the details that weren't there. 'The moon that the baboon would never own.' Her pale pink lips curved slightly into a subtle seductive smile, and yet some sort of sorrow seems to frame her eyes. 'Lips like the sakura itself, and just as tragic.' A smile curved on his lips as well; the game was made for two. And he wonders idly, as he sipped, as the last string of the shamisen was plucked, what he would have sold to have heaven in his arms.


	5. Chapter 5

Sung-sun looked at the blood-stained lip, crimson red spilling on his cheek. And yet he grins, that familar roguish grin that earned him many a woman's sigh. Carefree eyes look up to her as he watched her from her higher pedestal. And he saluted, still brazen because of their truimph. He was a young man, she thought as she lifted her hand to wave at the oncoming knight that held their banner. A delightful yet dangerous thought came to her mind, delightful because it was so tempting and dangerous, because of the disastrous consequences that it may hold for her and him as well. But she can give free rein to her thoughts, correct?

A tiny melancholic smile flits to her face. How does he make the grime and grit of battle seem so glamorous? His dashing debonair charms seemed always out to seduce. She blushed as she watched him, elbowing another beside him, strong, powerful, and handsome. "I'm home, wife," a soft voice whispered to her ear. She smiled, at the man behind her, 'Dire consequences indeed.' But she did notice him, that knight that held her heart. His eyes were on her; he was no longer smiling.


	6. Chapter 6

6.) pirate and noblewoman:

The Gentlemen Pirates, that was what they were called. Gentlemen who were forced into galley and escaped to become pirates. And he was their captain, the man with the scarred face, the man with that roguish smile. They had captured the vessel she was on, taking custody of the passengers and the cargo that they had. She had caught one of his men's eye. "Hey there sweetie," he smiled, some semblance of civility still with him, as he stepped towards her. "Care for some fun?" Or not.

"Oi, oi, John," another voice joined in as the man was pulled away from her. "We're here for cargo, women can wait at the port." And then he smiled at her. "Forgive him, years at sea can make men into brutes." And then a flash of recognition sparked in his eyes. "Aye, Johnny mi boy, you found a keeper."

"I did?"

"Don't you know who she is, Johnny?" The man shook his head. "This mi boy this is the duke's daughter. A heftly ransom she will fetch." That was the start of her captivity in the hands of the Gentlemen Pirates. For pirates, they were rather courteous and civil, less curses in front of the lady and all that. The man grinned, as he took her hand. "Have no fear, Lady, for you are with me." That was how it started.

And soon it will end. It wasn't that she would miss the tattooed captain, but her rescue made her feel hollow inside, as though something was ripped away from her. She could see his hard face as cold as the saber that he held against her neck, making little jests on how spirited she was, and how much he appreciated her beauty, making mocking compliments as they handed over the chest of gold that she was worth. She would have hated him, if he hadn't been exactly as he said, a gentleman pirate. "Are you alright?" he murmured, as her recieved her to the other boat. "That bastard didn't hurt you did he? Tell me and I'll skin his tattooed face off."

She shook her head, turning back to see the captain, face as cold as the grave, before it softened into a smile, saluting her with his sabre. He held the salute, until he and she disappeared into the horizon.


	7. Chapter 7

7.) beauty and the beast:

The olive-haired woman looked around in wonder, watching the flame dance on the fireplace, creating such a quaint warm view, a quiet contrast to the storm that hammered on the glass windows and the concrete walls. Tapestries, elaborately woven hung on these walls, depicting various scenes, from war to planting. The divans and recliners sported fine red velvet, soft and well-kept. Even the carpet was well-kept, lush and soft. The candelabra glistened palely, reflecting the dim light as much as it could. The room spoke of lavish and wealth as crystals and glass seemed to refract any light that would deem to pass through them.

And she stood there enrapt, at the wonders around her. That was, until she heard that sweet sound. Tender sound echoed through the walls, as she walked towards it. A man, or what seemed to be a man sat by the piano, hands dancing on the keys, creating that wonderful melody. The piano seemed to sing of some wordless anguish that was wrought into brilliant tones of music. She couldn't but feel the searing song in her heart, and so enrapt was she that she failed to notice that the creature had stopped playing.

Brown eyes looked at her, dark and terrifying its gaze, as it swept over her, pinning her with its intensity alone. "Are you afraid?" The creature -man -spoke. As his mouth opened, she could see the glimmer and glean of razor-sharp white teeth. 'What big teeth you have, Grand mother.' "Speak, woman."And yet, she felt lulled by the melodious quality of his voice. A slight motion of his lips lifted its corners, and she could not tell if he was smiling or snarling. "Have no fear; I will not harm you. Tell me honestly. Are you afraid?"

She could feel the silent question hovering around, tangible as the soft fabrics that hung on the walls. "Yes," she bowed down, whispering with shame in her voice, "I am afraid."

The stumpy fingers suddenly resumed its dance on the keys, guided by the music that they themselves made. "Fair enough," he replied, smooth and silky though husky voice booming. The brown eyes twinkled. "There is nothing to be ashamed of, little one. Even a monster as I feel fear. Come sit beside me. Let me teach you how to use this contraption."


End file.
